


The Case of When Dean Had Longer Hair Than Sam

by Nellie2018



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deans hair, Gen, Homophobia, Humour, Hurt Dean Winchester, Magic scissors, Suicide (not the brothers), Witch - Freeform, sams hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellie2018/pseuds/Nellie2018
Summary: Dean is hit with a spell that causes his hair to grow several inches overnight and is horrified to find that his hair is longer than his brothers lucious locks.
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Sam Winchester hissed as the fingers tightened on his hair.  
“Yield” he heard.  
“No way.” he growled and brought his knee up, giving a bruising blow to his opponents thigh.  
The grip loosened and he pulled his head and body away, twisting and bringing him down.  
He pinned his opponents hands and used his superior height to subdue any fight left in him.  
“Yield” he called with a grin on his face, looking down at his disgruntled brother.  
“Ok.” Dean submitted. “Get off me sasquatch.”  
Sam knelt up and held out a helping hand.  
“Not bad Sammy.” said Dean with a grin rubbing his thigh. “Although, you need to cut your hair. It’s getting too long. It could be a disadvantage in a real scrap.”  
Sam nodded, knowing that his brother was right but the problem was that he liked his hair long and felt that as long as he was aware of the vulnerability then he could tailor his fighting prowess accordingly.  
The brothers had been catching up on their training now that Sams broken arm was finally fully healed. Dean had wanted to make sure that Sam was up to full fighting speed before talking on another serious hunt.   
He walked over to the table and took a swig of his beer before picking up a gun.  
“Right. Unarmed combat - tick that box. Now target practice.”  
He handed the gun to his brother who carefully aimed at 4 glass bottles lined up on a nearby tree stump. Sam calmly pulled the trigger and each shot shattered the bottles in sequence. He turned back to Dean with a triumphant grin and handed the gun over.  
“Ok. Target practice - tick. Looks like you’re fit to hunt Sammy boy. Although, just for the record, I was going easy on you.”  
“Yeah, sure Dean.” grinned the dark haired hunter, knowing that Deans pride had been dented by the relatively easy take-down. Dean had never gone easy with him in their training even when they were younger. He picked up his half empty beer and finished it and went to clear away the broken glass into a small bucket, not wanting to leave the broken shards that could injure any of the local wildlife.. They were in the isolated woods, not too far from the bunker and the day was warm and he brushed a stray lock away from his eyes. To be honest, he thought, I do need a haircut. He hadn’t really bothered with the last 6 weeks, being on a hunting sabbatical whilst his broken arm had healed but realised it was getting a bit too long to be safe.  
“Dean?” he said and his brother looked up.  
“Maybe you could give me a quick trim when we get back to the bunker.”  
Dean cast him a smug smile and patted him on the back. “Sure Sam.”  
“Just a trim mind.” warned Sam, not liking the mischievous glint in his brother's eye.  
His brother sighed. “You can trust me with your luscious locks dude.”  
Sam nodded. He knew that Dean would do a good job as he had been cutting his little brother's hair for years. Once Dean had needed to cut out monster gunk that had solidified in his dark hair, the only solution after it failed to shift after several washes. Sam shivered, that had been a bad day and he still had nightmares about that.  
The brothers finished their beers and strolled back to the bunker and Dean went off in search of his scissors. He had acquired a professional set of hairdressers tools from a case involving a demon barber a few years back.  
“Ok Sam. Set up a chair and grab a couple of towels and we’ll get you done.”  
Sam nodded and did as he was asked and was soon sat in the chair, a towel on the floor to collect the cuttings and a towel around his large shoulders. Dean stood behind him and put on his best effeminate voice.  
“Ok honey. How much do you want off?”  
Sam frowned. “Just a couple of inches, no more.”  
He put his hand up to grab his brother's hand. “No more.” he repeated.  
Dean laughed. “Trust me Sammy.” he murmured and then happily applied himself to the task.  
As with most things that Dean did, he concentrated and tried to do the best he could which produced a surprisingly professional result. After 10 minutes he was satisfied with his work and he tapped his hand on his brother's shoulder. Sam had been quiet, not wanting to distract Deans attention.   
“All done Sam. Go and have a look.” He indicated to the mirror on the other side of the room. Sam walked over and appraised his reflection critically and then turned round with a smile.  
“Great job Dean.” he said, genuinely impressed with the resulting hairdo.  
Dean came over and fussed over him, brushing stray hairs away and removing the soiled towel.  
“Anything for the weekend sir?” he sang in the effeminate voice.  
“Keep that up and I won’t leave you a tip” Sam growled which caused the elder Winchester to laugh.  
“You go and get a shower while I get lunch sorted.” said Dean. Turning away, Sam walked towards his room, unconsciously running his fingers through his collar length hair. “ Less chance of a monster grabbing me now.” he thought satisfactorily.

Dean moved to the kitchen and began to prepare two plates of sandwiches. The larder was pretty well stocked as they had not travelled far from the bunker for a few weeks. He ran his hand through his hair and realised that his needed cutting as well. He liked to keep it close cropped and usually visited a barber once a month. He made a quick mental calculation and realised that it had probably last been cut the week before Sam had his run in with the pissed off spirit who had flung him into a granite fireplace and fractured a bone in his arm. He resolved to visit the barber next time he was out and about. Sam returned shortly with his laptop and they ate the sandwiches as he searched for new cases.  
“That's weird.” commented Sam after a few minutes which immediately alerted Dean. Weird was definitely their area of expertise.  
“What?” he asked, moving over to look at the screen. It was showing a police report of what looked liked a suicide.  
“Tom Morton. Married, two kids, accountant. Found hanging from a tree in the woods behind his home.”  
Dean shrugged. “Guess he had enough of the rat race. What's weird about that?”  
“He hung himself by his hair. It was so long that he wrapped it around the branch and around his neck. Look, here’s a picture. ”  
The picture showed a dark haired man probably in his early 30’s. Around his throat was a long swathe of dark hair which was looped around the branch above it. A small step stool stood at the bottom of the tree, lying on its side where it had been kicked over.  
“Wow. That’s a thick branch. His hair must be down to his toes.”   
Sam nodded. “Yep. The Coroner's report confirms it was all his own hair. What is weird is that there is another photo taken at his child's birthday party the month before.” He moved the cursor and the picture appeared and Dean gasped.  
“But his hair is not much longer than mine. That’s not possible, hair doesn’t grow that quick.”  
“Not normally no. I suspect a supernatural cause - could be a spell or curse..”  
“Looks like we’re back in the hunt Sam.”   
The dark haired hunter nodded. “I agree. I’ll need to do a little research.”  
“Where are we headed?”  
“Gran Vista, Dakota.”  
“Hmm, not too far. So, you reckon we’re looking at a witch?”  
Sam nodded. “More than likely.”  
“Oh man. I hate witches.” muttered Dean darkly. He’d had several uncomfortable consequences from their clashes with witches over the years.  
Sam moved the laptop over. “See what you can find about the victim's life while I have a look at some lore books. I remember reading about something like this a while ago.”  
“You’re a professor of weirdness Sam Winchester.” commented Dean affectionately, beginning to type something into the laptops search bar.  
“The more we know the less chance of us being killed or worse.” called Sam walking towards a specific bookshelf.  
“I’m all for that.” agreed Dean, bringing his attention to the screen as a picture of a happy family birthday outing appeared. “Ok Tom Morton, let’s see what made you tick.”


	2. Chapter 2

They set out early the next morning and arrived just before lunch in the small suburban oasis of Gran Vista. Its rows of neat houses with well tended lawns screamed of normality and it somehow grated with the elder Winchester, perhaps a little envious of all the ‘normal’ people who had no clue as to the monsters out there. They booked in at a small Days Inn motel and changed into their alter personas, donning dark suits and smart shoes. Dean glanced in the mirror as he adjusted his tie and sighed. His hair looked too long for his taste so he turned to his brother.  
“I think I’m going to get my hair cut before we visit the police department. It looks a little scruffy for a sharp dressed agent dude.”  
Sam nodded. “I spotted a barber shop just near the cop station. I’ll drop by the local newspaper office which is close by to see if they have any background on the story. Once you’re smart, we can go and see the sheriff and coroner. Give me a call when you’re finished.”  
“Ok” agreed Dean. They walked to the barbershop where they parted company and Dean entered, glancing back and seeing his brother enter a small office a few doors down. That was the beauty of small towns, everything seemed to be based round the main street. The bell dinged as he opened the door and a small, spiky haired man turned and welcomed him with a smile.  
“Hi, what can I do for you today?” he enquired and Dean had to stop himself from laughing. The hairdresser's voice and mannerisms was just as effeminate as he had been yesterday with Sam. This guy was such a stereotype. Noticing that the barber was waiting expectantly he shook himself.  
“I was just wondering if you could fit me in for a trim.”  
He looked around and noticed that he was the only customer.  
“Sure, please sit down. My name is Mitch.”  
Dean sat down. “Dean.” he introduced himself.  
“How much do you want off?” asked Mitch, bringing a set of scissors up.  
“Just a tidy up. It’s been a couple of months since I had it cut so maybe an inch or so.”  
“No problemo.” chirped Mitch and placed a towel around Deans shoulders. It smelt clean and fresh with a hint of lemon.  
“So, I’ve not seen you around here before. Just visiting?” he said, making conversation  
“Yeah. Just a bit of business.”  
“Oh, anything interesting?”  
“Not really. We’re insurance agents. Pretty boring really but it gets us out of the office once in a while.”  
Mitch began to cut and Dean relaxed as he realised that this guy was good at his job. The cut soon took shape as they chatted, Dean not really giving him much detail. Mitch seemed to know a lot about the local town and the barbers seemed to be a hub of local gossip so the hunter decided to go fishing. When Mitch took a breath, Dean diverted the conversation.  
“It sounds like you know everything that goes on round here Mitch?” he said.  
Mitch nodded. “I’ve lived and worked here for a long time. Everyone needs a haircut and I guess they like to talk. I wonder why everyone feels the need to confide in a hairdresser?”  
“I guess it's part of the job spec.” laughed the hunter.  
Mitch leaned in. “Oh, I could make a fortune from some of the things I hear Dean.” he said quietly.   
“Like what?” Dean asked, intrigued.  
“Oh I get to hear all about the affairs of the heart if you get my drift.”  
“What bored businessmen knocking off their secretaries?”  
Mitch nodded. “And more salacious goings on.”  
Dean raised his eyebrows. “The mind boggles.”  
Mitch finished the cut and tapped him lightly on the shoulders.  
“How's that?” he asked and Dean appraised his image in the mirror. It was a completely professional job and he was very pleased with it. His hair was a good inch off his collar.  
“That's great Mitch. I look professional again rather than a raggedy man.”  
“Oh, you weren't that bad. I’ve seen some clients with hair right down their backs.”  
Dean stood and Mitch took him to the till.  
“Thanks very much.” he said paying the bill with his limitless credit card (thanks to Charlie), careful to include a generous tip. He found Mitch amusing and he had enjoyed the last 20 minutes. It was easy to understand how his easy manner lulled the unwary into divulging their darkest secrets,  
“How long are you staying?” Mitch asked, handing him the card back after processing the payment.  
“Not sure, we’re just investigating a case in town. Should only be a couple of days hopefully.”  
“Well, if you want a decent meal and a drink, try Casey's bar at the end of the street. I can usually be found there several nights a week if you want any more details on the salacious goings on. I’ve really enjoyed meeting you and I’d love to chat some more - you’re a really good listener and much better looking than my average customer.”  
Dean realised that Mitch was flirting with him but was used to the attention and threw his most disarming smile.   
“I’ll make sure that Sam and me pop in.”  
Mitch tried to stop the disappointment showing on his face.  
“Sam?”  
“My partner.”   
The partner terminology was a bit ambiguous. Mitch realised that it could mean business partner as well as social partner. His hope didn’t completely falter.   
“Well I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again before you go. Bye Deano.”  
“Thanks Mitch.” acknowledged the hunter and exited the barbershop. Coming out onto the sidewalk, he pulled out his phone.  
“Sam. You ready?”

Mitch watched out of the window as a tall dark haired man in a similar suit walked out of the newspaper office and joined Dean. They had a short conversation before both crossed the street and entered the police station. Mitch watched as they disappeared from his sight.  
There was no hug or affection there. It appeared that this Sam was a business partner. Relieved, he moved back into the salon and began to sweep the hair cuttings off the floor. Bending down he picked up a lock of Dean's hair and put it in a small plastic box. He grinned as he relished the thought of the good looking muscular agent.  
“I’ll be seeing more of you Deano - one way or another.” he sang quietly.

The Winchester brothers sat in the Sheriff's office, having given them their false identification as Insurance Assessors investigating the life insurance claim of Tom Morton's next of kin.  
The Sheriff, Josiah McKinley, sighed.  
“I’ve known Tom for a long time. He does,” he hesitated and amended “ did, my taxes every year.”  
“Any reason why he would take his own life?”  
Josiah sighed.   
“The last few weeks were pretty weird.. He grew his hair, turned real scruffy, kinda lost the will to live. He neglected Jenny and the kids and stopped working.”  
“Did any event trigger this strange behaviour?”  
“Nothing that we could find out. He lived the apple pie life until 4 weeks before he died. Suddenly he just let himself go. I guess we’re all thinking it's a mid life crisis. He wouldn’t be the first.”  
Both brothers nodded.  
“You said he grew his hair. From the pictures I saw, he hung himself by his hair.” asked Sam.  
Josiah shuddered. “Yeah. I found him like that. I’ve never seen anything like it.”  
“I also saw a picture of him from August at his son's birthday party. He didn’t have long hair then.”  
“As I said he let himself go.”  
“We’re going to have to speak to his wife. How is she doing?”  
“She’s devastated obviously. No-one saw this coming. A month ago she was happily married with a nice life and now she’s on her own with two young kids.”  
Dean hesitated before asking. “I have to ask this but was there any indications of anything going on in his life? Marriage problems, affairs, business problems?”  
“No. Like I said he had a straight up apple pie life. Tom and Jennys relationship was fine and his accountancy practice was steady and solvent.” Josiah leaned back in his chair.  
“If you’re looking for something to decline the claim you’re not going to find it here. Tom was a friend and he was a straight up church going nice guy.”  
Dean nodded. “We just have procedures. I’m sure everything will go through ok. I’m sorry we had to meet like this. We just need to speak to the coroner and we’ll sign it off.”  
Josiah stood and shook their hands.  
“No problem. I’ll give Lenny a ring and let him know you’re coming over. You can find the mortuary on Old Cliff Road at the back of the clinic. We'll be releasing the body for burial tomorrow so you’d best head on over there this afternoon.”  
“Thanks Sheriff,” said Sam. 

The brothers left and walked back to the motel to pick up the Impala.  
“So, what do you think?” asked Sam as they walked.  
“I’m thinking that Tom has a guilty secret somewhere that he didn’t want shared.”  
“Sounds like something happened that triggered his decline.”  
“Hmm.”  
“Nice haircut by the way.” commented Sam.  
“Thanks. Hair by Mitch. You would have loved him Sam.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah, a true hairdressing professional. Camp as hell and I think he was flirting with me at the end. I reckon he’d love to get his hands on your precious locks.”  
“Not a chance.” muttered Sam.  
“He's quite a character. Seems to know a lot about what's going on round here. What did you get from the reporter?”  
“Not a lot. Tom seems like a straight up guy. Happily married, two young kids, goes to church on Sunday.”  
They reached the car and travelled the short distance to the mortuary. Walking in they found the coroner waiting.  
“Lenny I presume?” said Dean warmly.  
“Right, Sheriff McKinlay said you’d be coming over. Come with me.”  
He walked to the bank of chillers and pulled open a drawer and pulled the cover away. Both brothers looked down on the stiff body of Tom Morton. He was only young, body firm and muscled. Long dark hair was braided in a long plait down the side of his body.  
“I had to braid his hair to keep it tidy.” said Lenny. “7 foot long root to tip.”  
Sam studied the red strangulation mark round his neck and shivered slightly.  
“It's a first for me, using your own hair as a noose.” continued Lenny.  
“Yeah that's pretty messed up” agreed Dean. “You’d wonder that it could hold a man's bodyweight.”  
“Human hair is one of the strongest materials in the world. It’s the skin that would rip, not the hair.”  
“How long would you reckon it would take to grow hair this length?”  
“On average 6 to 8 inches a year.”  
“But I’ve seen a photo of Tom that was taken at his kids birthday in August. That was only 4 weeks ago.”  
“Really? No. Must have been someone else. It would take 20 years for it to grow this long.”  
“Did you know him?” asked Sam  
“No, I’ve never seen him before they brought him in. It's such a shame.”  
“Did you find anything on the autopsy?”  
“Nothing. He was fit and healthy. Death was caused by strangulation consistent with hanging. I guess he just had a mental breakdown and decided to end it all.”  
“Sad,” said Dean. He looked at his brother. “I think we’ve got everything we need. Thanks Lenny.”  
They left and walked back to the car slowly both brothers deep in thought..  
“Somethings not right Sam,” said Dean sighing.  
Sam nodded. “It looks like a straight forward suicide but it’s the hair that's the puzzle. How the hell does a man grow 20 years worth of hair in 4 weeks?”  
“Not naturally.” said Dean. “Look, Mitch said he knew everyone's secrets. Maybe I could have a chat with him about it.”  
Sam raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said he was flirting with you. You may not like to encourage him, get his hopes up when you can’t follow through.”  
Dean smiled. “I’m a professional charmer. I’ll let him down easy.”  
“All the same I think it’s best if I go with you.”  
“Oh Sammy, you are so overprotective. Ok, if I need to I’ll hold your hand so he’ll get the message. He’s a character though, I think you’ll like him.”  
“Hm.” said Sam. “At least if he thinks I’m your boyfriend he won’t get any ideas.”  
“Oh, it makes me all tingly when you’re defending my honour.”  
“Huh” grunted the younger Winchester. He knew that Dean was a good looking guy who’s easy manner was attractive to both sexes and sometimes his brother was oblivious to the mixed signals he gave out. A few times in the past he had pretended to be Deans gay partner to get him out of an awkward situation. They laughed about it after, but sometimes it had been a close call.


	3. Chapter 3

They called Jenny Morton and arranged to speak to her the next day. She was obviously very upset and Sam tried to reassure her that it was purely procedural and that she had nothing to worry about. They changed into their casual clothes and about 7pm they walked into the nearby Casey's bar. Scanning the room, Dean didn’t see Mitch so they found a table and ordered a meal. After finishing a delicious plate of steak and fries they finished off with apple pie lubricated by the drinking of a couple of pints of beer. As they were scraping the last of the apple from the dishes there was a high pitched squeal of pleasure and a short spiky haired vision dressed in bright shorts and sequinned top bounced over to the table.  
“Hey Deano. So good to see you again.”  
Dean shared an amused glance with his brother who mouthed “Deano?” and then turned to greet the bundle of energy.  
“Hey Mitch.”  
Mitch came over to the table, a wide smile on his face.  
“This must be your partner.” he said holding out his hand. “Mitch West, best hairdresser in the state.”  
Sam took the proffered hand. “Sam. Pleased to meet you. You did a good job of Deans hair.”  
Mitch beamed at the praise. “He was a perfect subject. I didn’t have to do much to improve on his perfection. Those eyes are to die for. ”  
Dean blushed as Sam laughed.  
“Nice one Mitch. You know how to embarrass a guy.” spluttered Dean.  
Mitch laid a warm hand on his arm.  
“Only the truth Deano.” he said with a grin and Dean realised he was being teased as Mitch threw a cheeky grin to Sam.  
“So, how was your dinner?” he continued.  
“Just as good as you said.” Dean replied, patting his stomach..   
The conversation moved freely between the three men and both Winchesters relaxed as Mitch didn’t seem to want to make any moves on Dean. He seemed content to chat with both of the brothers. Eventually Dean guided the conversation round to the job they were in town for.  
“Did you know Tom Morton?” he asked and Mitch nodded.  
“Yeah. Shame about him. I couldn’t believe he killed himself.”  
“Any idea why he did it? Have you heard any gossip?”  
Mitch hesitated and there was a short silence.  
“ Why are you guys involved? The guy hung himself, I guess he had his reasons but I don’t know anything.” Mitch asked slowly.  
Sam answered. “We’re insurance agents and we’re checking the details on the life insurance claim. It seemed so out of character it flagged up on our system.”  
Mitch nodded, accepting the explanation.  
“Last time I saw Tom was in August. He came in for a cut.”  
“And how did he seem?” asked Dean  
“Happy, no problems. He was looking forward to his Son's birthday party the next day. I think he was collecting the cake from Bettys Bakery when I finished with him. My heart breaks for his family. I hear he had a wife and two young kids. What makes a man kill himself for no reason?”  
“How long was his hair when you cut it?” Sam asked.  
“Huh?”  
“I know it's a strange question but how long was his hair?”  
Mitch answered in bemusement. “Short back and sides. A bit like yours Dean. Why?”  
“You won’t know this as the Police haven’t released any details but Tom hanged himself with his own hair.”  
“What?” screeched Mitch looking at both the brothers in confusion.  
Sam nodded. “He wrapped his hair around a branch and then looped it tight around his neck, tied it off and pushed off the step ladder he was standing on and choked himself to death.”  
Mitch gasped in horror. “But that is impossible.”  
Dean nodded. “Yeah but it happened. Did you see him at all in September?”  
“No, though I did hear that he had taken a break from the accountancy office..”  
“We visited him in the mortuary this afternoon and his hair was 7 foot long.”  
“Sounds a bit like Rapunzel.” murmured Mitch. He looked up at Dean before glancing at Sam.  
“He’s kidding me right?” he said uncertainly but saw the dark haired agent shake his head grimly.  
“It's true. Are you sure you’ve not heard of anything weird going on round here?”  
Mitch frowned. “No, nothing. Nothing exciting ever happens round here. Especially not anything you would class as weird.”  
“Well a guy growing 7 foot of hair in a month is definitely not possible.”  
Mitch held his hands up. “Hair grows at 6 maybe 7 inches a year, not a day.” He considered for a moment and then smiled.  
“I have just thought of something. Maybe someone has magic scissors that make your hair grow instead of cutting. If you find them, let me have them. My shop will be full every day.”  
Sam studied the hairdresser with a hunters eye but the guy seemed genuine. He had obviously been shocked by the circumstances of Tom Morton's death. Prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt he looked over at his brother and gave him a small shake of the head. Rising to his feet he told his tablemates. “I’m going to get another round of drinks in.”  
Mitch watched him go with a shiver of anticipation. He would now work his charm on Dean as it was obvious that Sam was a business partner having studied the interaction between the two over the last hour. They were good friends but he was sure that there was nothing going on romantically between them. Moving slightly closer, he smiled brightly.  
“What a job you have.” he said. “Must be stressful.”  
“Hmm” agreed Dean. “Some days are worse than others.”  
“You need to relax. Why don’t you ditch Sam and we can go somewhere quiet. I can help you lose that stress.”  
Dean laughed, mellow from a few beers. “Thanks for the offer Mitch but I don’t think Sam would appreciate that.”  
Mitch's stomach dropped. “Oh, have I got this wrong? I thought you two were business partners.”  
Dean smiled disarmingly. “We’ve been together for quite a while. I guess we’re not so demonstrative. Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”  
Mitch bridled inside but cast Dean a sad smile. “And I’m sorry. He’s a lucky guy. You're a stunner Deano.”  
“Aw heck, there you go again making me blush.”  
“Oh well, you can’t knock a guy for trying.” said Mitch with a quiet shoulder barge. “If you get bored, you know where to find me.”  
Sam walked back to the table with a tray of beers in his hand and spotted Dean giving him the signal with his crossed little and ring finger.. He placed the drinks down with an apology for the time it took him. Mitch looked up at the dark haired hunter. “Just to let you know I’ve just asked Deano to ditch you and run away with me.”  
Sam quirked his eyebrow and mockingly glared at his brother.  
“And what was his answer?” he asked firmly.  
Dean grinned. “I told him that he would be next on the list once I was bored with you.”  
“Fair enough.” Sam shrugged with a smile at Mitch and the tension broke with that and all three settled back to an easy conversation. About 10 o’clock Mitch bid them goodnight, excusing himself as he had an early start. The brothers watched him go.  
“That wasn’t too bad.” commented Dean. “He took rejection quite well.”  
“Hmm. Dean Winchester's honour survives another day.”  
“Give me a kiss honey.” grinned Dean puckering his lips suggestively and laughed as his brother slapped his knee.  
“So, what do you reckon to Mitch?” he asked.  
“He seems to not know anything. He was pretty shocked when he found out how Tom hung himself.”  
“Yeah.” agreed Dean. “Well I hope that Jenny Morton can give us a clue tomorrow because at the minute I am baffled by this case. Come on drink up, you handsome beast. I need my bed.”

Mitch took the plastic box out from the bedside table and walked over to the closet. Opening it, it revealed a small altar with a candle, and metal bowl. Inside the bowl were several rare herbs and he carefully shook the lock of Deans hair into the bowl. Adding a small splash of oil he began to cast a spell and at the culmination he lit the mixture. It flared a brief flash of blue and then died out. “You’re mine now Dean. One way or another I’m going to have you.”  
He emptied the contents of the bowl and picked out the barely singed lock of hair and carefully placed it back in the plastic box. He closed the closet door and placed the box under his pillow. “I’ll have sweet dreams tonight Deano.” he murmured.

Dean shivered as Sam opened the motel door. Dismissing it he followed his brother in and soon both Winchesters were asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Jenny Morton was a mousy woman, mid 20 going on 40. Her clothes were plain and her mannerisms quiet and slightly old fashioned. Sam warmed to her as she politely greeted them having been contacted by the brothers the previous evening, and guided them to a well furnished sitting room. He glanced at the fireplace as she took a seat next to his brother on the sofa and felt a pang as he saw pictures of a happy family man with a boy and a girl.  
Jenny saw him looking.  
“He was a good father.” she commented quietly.  
“I’m sure he was.” agreed Sam. “We’re sorry for your loss.”  
She nodded slowly. “It’s still hard to believe he’s no longer here. We’re all still numb.”  
Dean spoke up. “We just have a few questions before submitting the report. I understand he was depressed.”  
Jenny sighed. “It was after Brandons birthday. He was fine and then he just seemed to go downhill. It’s strange, after the last cut his hair started growing really quickly. He went to get it cut again but it grew even quicker. Every time he woke up it was a few inches longer. He had it cut a couple of times but it never worked for more than a day. It got him down. After the last time he said he was never going to visit the barber again. He was always very particular about the way he looked, he said no-one would trust a scruffy accountant. He stopped going to work, to church and even isolated himself from his family.”  
“Did you find him?”  
She sniffed as her eyes filled. “Yes. We went to bed and he kissed me goodnight. When I woke up he was gone. I had a bad feeling when I saw a note on his pillow. I called the Sheriff and we found him hanging by his ….”  
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” murmured Dean.  
“I asked the coroner what makes a man's hair grow like that and all he could offer was that Tom maybe had a hormone imbalance. It just doesn’t sit right with me.”  
“How do you mean?” asked Dean leaning forward.  
“It all happened after he had his hair cut with that barber in town. He hadn’t used him before, it was just that the barber we know from the church was on holiday and he wanted it cut ready for Brandon's party photos. He normally wouldn’t have used him otherwise.”  
“Oh?” asked Sam.  
Jenny frowned. “We're a clean living church going family and live our lives according to the principles of the bible. We don’t agree with his lifestyle.”  
Sam could see his brother bristle. Dean did not appreciate any kind of prejudice and neither did he.  
“So.” continued Dean, “Tom and yourself don’t agree with same sex couples.”  
“It’s against god's teachings.” affirmed Jenny with a defiant nod of her head.. “It’s our belief. We understand that sort of deviant behaviour happens but we don’t have to mix with it. Unfortunately Tom didn’t know what he was like when he went into the shop.”  
Dean nodded. “Everyone has the right to an opinion.” he said quietly.  
Sam interjected. “I don’t think we need anything else Mrs Morton. We have everything for our report. I can’t see any problem with your insurance claim. It looks like he was depressed and took his own life. Such a shame for a god fearing family like yourselves.”  
Jenny missed the sarcasm in his remark and she just nodded.  
“God will carry us through. Thank you for coming.”  
The brothers rose and followed her to the main door. In another room they saw Brandon and Sally sitting in front of a television.  
“Look after your Mom.” called Sam as she opened the door.  
Both children looked up and politely nodded.  
“Bye Mrs Morton. Thank you for your time. I know it has been difficult but at least we can help you with the insurance.”  
She closed the door with a thin smile. It wasn’t much consolation, and turned back to her children.

Walking back to the Impala Dean cursed.  
“God will carry us through. If only she knew the truth.”  
Sam nodded. He hated prejudice as much as his brother. He paused as Dean turned to open the drivers door. Did Dean's hair look a little long?  
He got into the passenger side and looked again. His brother saw him looking.  
“What is it, have I got something on my face?” he asked impatiently.  
“Your hair.” said Sam, now convinced it was longer than it was yesterday. “It was above your collar yesterday and now it’s past your collar.”  
“What are you going on about Sam?” muttered Dean, pulling the visor down to have a look in the mirror. He was surprised to see it did seem to be a little longer than he would expect.  
“You don’t think …” said Sam slowly.  
“What Sam? That I’ve got a case of the cursed scissors?”  
The tall hunter shrugged. “Dean, your hair has grown 3 inches overnight. That's not normal.”  
“Damn.” cursed the older hunter. “What the hell is causing this?”  
“Calm down. Let’s go back to the motel and see if we can figure this out. Bobby may know of something.”  
Dean crunched the car into gear.  
“He better know something. I can’t have hair longer than Sam Winchester. I will never live it down.”  
Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll braid your hair when it gets too long.”  
“Not funny Sam.” grunted Dean, pulling away from the kerb.

By the time they reached the hotel, Sam could have sworn his brother's hair had grown another inch. Dean spoke to Bobby who, after he stopped laughing, started to ask some questions.  
“Sounds like a cursed object or spell.” he finally commented. “What did you touch that you shouldn’t have?”  
“Nothing.” snapped Dean, thinking back. “I just got my hair cut and then we had a meal and a few drinks at a local diner. We’ve not been anywhere.”  
“Well,do you think the fact that it is a spell to do with hair and that you have just visited a hairdressers not give you a few pointers?” He asked candidly.  
Dean looked at Sam who shrugged. “Figures.” he admitted..  
“So you reckon Hair by Mitch could really own magic scissors?”  
“Seems like it. Tom Morton had his hair cut there just before it started growing. Maybe Mitch isn’t what he seems.”  
“I think we need to visit Mitch again. Thanks Bobby.”  
“Let me know if I need to buy some ribbons for next time you visit.” snarked the old hunter and laughed at the curse as the phone call was disconnected.  
“He’s enjoying this too much.” grumbled Dean, snaking his hand through his hair.  
“Shit, it’s longer now.”  
Sam studied it. “Yep, about as long as mine. Another hour and you will have surpassed me. I never thought I’d see the day.”  
“You are enjoying this too much as well.”  
Sam nodded with a grin. “Oh yeah. Do you know how long I’ve had to put up with your long hair jokes? You can’t blame me for having a chance of revenge.”  
“I need help Sam.” growled Dean.  
Sam tapped his brother on the back. “And you’ll get it. Normally, if we destroy the cursed object it will break the spell. The trick is finding the cursed object.”  
“Scissors.” said Dean confidently. “He used one set of scissors and a comb. There was nothing else.”  
“Then we’ll go and find them. Tonight when the salon is closed.”  
Happy now that he had a target in mind Dean relaxed a little.  
He watched as Sam pulled his laptop out.  
“What are you looking at?”  
“I dunno. I just get the feeling that I’ve read about something like this before. How about you go and get some lunch for us while I do a bit of research.”  
Dean nodded, knowing that his brother's hunches usually paid off.  
“Ok professor. There’s a Dennys just round the corner. Usual?”  
“Not burger Dean. Maybe something with a bit of green in.”  
“3 day old pasta out of the dumpster it is then.”  
Sam watched as his brother left the room, his longer hair swishing around the top of his shoulders.  
“So much ammunition.” he murmured before starting to click through the search bar.

Sam watched the elder Winchester as he fiddled with the back door lock. Glancing around warily, confident that no-one was around, he heard a satisfied grunt before Dean pushed the door open. Moving stealthily the brothers entered the hairdressing salon finding themselves in a small kitchen. Lighting their way with their penlights Dean nodded his head and proceeded into the main salon area. A quick search found several pairs of scissors, combs and other related hairdressing accessories.  
“Which one?” murmured Sam.  
Dean shook his head. “I dunno. Let’s just take them all.”  
“Mitch will be pissed.”  
“Not if we make it look like a break-in. He won’t know it’s us, we made sure there is no cctv.”  
Sam shrugged. “Ok.” he agreed and watched as Dean gathered all the instruments and put them in a carrier bag.  
“That’s all of them. Let’s get out of here.” he whispered and both of the brothers left via the open back door. Dean closed it and turned the lock then kicked it open with a loud crash as the wood splintered and lock shattered.  
“That should do it.” he said satisfied and went to join his brother.  
No-one had seen them.

They burnt the implements in a fire pit in an isolated wood nearby.  
“I hope it works.” Dean said, swishing his below shoulder length hair around.  
Sam smiled. “Well we’ll know when you wake up tomorrow morning and your hair isn’t to your waist.”  
Dean sighed. “I can’t wait to get it cut but I’m not trusting any scissors except our own in the bunker.”  
Sam nodded. “I understand. I’ll do it for you as soon as we get back. In the meantime, lets get some sleep.”

Dean woke with a groan. His muscles ached in the mornings and he stretched out the kinks lazily. Lifting his head off the pillow he swung his legs out and walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror.  
“Damn, son of a bitch, hell.” he shouted which brought his brother running to the door.  
Sam assessed the older hunter with a critical eye.  
“I guess it didn’t work.” he said simply.  
Dean turned around enraged. “No Sammy. It most certainly didn’t work.”  
Deans hair was half way down his back, at least 6 inches had grown overnight.  
“I guess we need to keep looking.” he said simply.  
Dean turned and gazed at his image in the mirror.  
“Why me Sam? I can’t live like this.” he moaned.  
Sam moved forward and patted his distraught brother's shoulder.  
“Hey, don’t let it get to you. I guess we can dismiss cursed object. That means that it must be a spell. I think we need to visit Mitch.”  
Dean nodded vehemently and cursed. “Damn. Of all the hairdressers I could have chosen I picked a barber witch with a long hair fetish.”  
“Winchester luck strikes again.” said Sam with a small smile.  
“Come on, let's get dressed and get some breakfast before we go and find Mitch the Witch.”  
Dean nodded and looked up at the next comment made by his brother.  
“It’ll be ok Dean. We’ve experienced curses in the past and always got through this. I have an idea on how we can get you through this one.”  
“Oh?” asked Dean.  
“Yeah, something I read yesterday. I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”

Sam easily found the home address of Mitch and half an hour later Dean parked up outside the non-descript turn of the century house. Walking up the steps the wind blew a stray lock of hair in his face and he flicked it away impatiently.  
“Man, I don’t know how you put up with long hair Sammy.” he muttered.  
Reaching the main door he rang the bell and heard footsteps coming to greet him.  
The door opened and Mitch smiled, his face lighting up as he saw who his visitor was.  
“Deano, so good to see you again? He chirped.  
“Hey Mitch.” Dean said. “As you can see, I’ve got a problem and need your advice.”  
Mitch looked at him and seemed to notice the long hair for the first time.  
“I can see.” he said. “Come in Dean.”  
Dean played dumb. “I called by your shop but it was closed up.”  
Mitch nodded. “Yes. I got a call from the cops this morning to say there had been a break-in. I’ve been down there since 3am cleaning up.”  
“Did they take much?”  
“No. Just a few scissors and things. I suppose they just picked up any small valuables they could carry.”  
“Tough break.”  
Mitch nodded. “It happens. I’ll just get a new set of gear with the insurance money. A lot of the stuff was pretty well used. I guess it’ll give me a chance to take a break. So Deano, what is happening with your hair? I only cut it a couple of days ago.”  
Dean shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Ever since you cut it, it’s been growing like crazy.”  
Mitch assessed the attractive hunter in front of him.  
“Well I can help if you’ll let me.”  
“Cutting it won’t be the answer. Tom Morton had the same problem and cutting it made it worse.”  
Mitch nodded. “Yes, it would. The spell is very specific and messing around with it has consequences.”  
Dean hesitated. “What?”  
“It’s a spell Deano. Quite an inventive one if you ask me.”  
“A spell?” said Dean, again acting dumb. His suspicions about Mitch were proving correct.  
Mitch grinned. “Yes Dean. I cast it on you after dinner the other night.”  
Dean grew angry. “Well get rid of it.” he demanded.  
Mitch took a step forward and touched Dean on the arm lightly and Dean found himself unable to move.  
“I can remove it but there is a price.”  
“How much do you want?” Dean snapped.  
Mitch shook his head. “I don’t want money. All I ask is one night with you where you will do anything I want.”  
“No damn chance.” snarled Dean causing Mitch to take a step back.  
“I’ll make it good for you Deano. You will enjoy it and in the morning you will have no memory and the spell will be lifted.”  
Dean cursed colourfully. “Is this what you did to Tom Morton?”  
“Yes. I have a penchant for straight married men. Tom was especially attractive because of his obvious homophobia. I gave him the same option as you have had but he chose to refuse me. I never lifted the spell and it drove him to take his own life eventually. You don’t want that to happen to you do you Deano.”  
Dean tried to calm himself. “One night and I won’t remember anything?”  
Mitch nodded. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it. It’s not as if you’re not experienced. Sam will never need to know.”  
“I’m not gay dipshit.”  
“But you told me you and he were in a relationship.” said Mitch in confusion.  
“We’re related dumbass. Sam is my brother.”  
Mitch shrugged. “It doesn’t make any difference. I do have a penchant for straight guys anyway.”  
Dean cursed, helpless as he glared at the witch in front of him.

Meanwhile, Sam had snuck into the house by the rear door and climbed the stairs stealthily. His research had suggested that a personal item of the victim was needed for the spell to work. Entering Mitch's bedroom he began to search. Opening a cupboard he found a small altar and a stack of boxes and in each, a lock of hair. Dean was obviously not the witches first victim. All the boxes looked dusty so he left them where they were and continued his search. Going over to the bed he pulled the pillows up and smiled as he saw the small plastic tub with a lock of hair inside.  
“Bingo.” he declared under his breath. Opening the box he took the lock of hair out and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. He walked down the stairs and joined his brother and the witch in the living room.

Mitch turned as the tall hunter entered the room and gasped in surprise.  
“Hey Mitch.” Sam said and nodded to his brother.  
“How did you get in my house?” demanded Mitch.  
“It’s over Mitch. We know what you’ve been up to.”  
Sam took the lighter and lit the lock of hair and Mitch screeched.  
The hair caught fire and flared quickly as Sam dropped it to the floor. A shiver ran through Dean as the spell was lifted and he found himself able to move again.  
Mitch grew angry, knowing that he had been outwitted by the Winchester brothers. He was a relatively powerful witch and he threw a hand out and both Winchesters were thrown back into the walls. Sam and Dean fought the power and slowly their combined determination made Mitch’s power waiver. Sam began to get to his feet and in a panic Mitch focussed all his power on the dark haired hunter, pinning him back against the wall with a crunch. Unfortunately for Mitch, this freed Dean to reach into the back of his pants and pull the gun into his hand.  
“Witch killing bullets Mitch.” he snapped and Mitch turned in horror to see the gun aimed at his heart. The sound of the gun going off was the last sound he ever heard.  
Sam groaned as he climbed to his feet, his hand rubbing at an ache in his lower back. Dean leaned down to help him up.  
“Ok Sammy?”  
“Yeah, just another bruise to add to my collection. Are you ok?”  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. he was a sick son of a bitch. He used the spell to blackmail men to have sex with him.”  
“You and Tom aren’t his first victims. There were about 12 boxes with locks of hairs in his cupboard.”  
“The others won’t remember. He said I would have to spend the night with him, letting him do whatever he wanted and then he would wipe my memory and lift the spell. God, I hate witches.”  
Sam agreed, looking at the crumpled body of Mitch. “Well, he won’t be hurting anyone ever again. Come on let’s get out of here.”  
They cleaned up the area, wiping their fingerprints from all surfaces and bundled the body of the hairdresser in a sheet with easy practice. They left the area and disposed of the body in a small lake about 30 miles away from Gran Vista. The local sheriff's department would only find an empty house with no clue to what happened. The Winchesters doubted that anyone in Gran Vista would mourn Mitch.

They arrived back at the bunker later that evening. As soon as they walked in Dean shared a glance with his brother.  
“I’ll get the chair, you get the scissors.” said Sam and watched as Dean hurried to his room.  
When Dean was seated, Sam combed it through. The hair was a little above his waist but had thankfully not grown any more since the spell was lifted. Sam settled the towel round his shoulders and subtly took his phone from his back pocket. He snapped a couple of pictures without his brother noticing. Slipping the phone away he combed if through again.  
“What's taking the time Sam?” demanded Dean.  
“Just getting this image in my brain. I am never going to see this again Dean.”  
“Get the damn hair cut.”  
Sam laughed. “Calm down, keep your hair on. Oh, no that ‘s not right is it?”  
“Ha Ha Winchester. Get my hair cut now or I’ll use the scissors on yours when you’re asleep.”  
“Ok man.”  
Sam started to cut the hair and soon swathes of dark blond hair were falling onto the towel. Dean kept his mouth shut and Sam continued to cut and shape until finally he was happy with the result. He tapped him on the shoulder.  
“All done Dean.”  
Dean stood up and shook the hair from his shoulders and stalked over to the mirror. He examined his image and finally sighed in relief.  
“Thanks Sam.” he said, his nightmare finally reaching an end.  
Sam just nodded, knowing that his efforts were appreciated. He was glad that he had been able to take care of his brother.  
“Go and take a shower and I’ll get supper.” he urged, smiling at the role reversal from a few days ago.  
Dean nodded and left the room. Sam took the phone out of his pocket and looked at the pictures.  
“So much ammunition Deano.” he breathed with a sly smile.

2nd August 2020


End file.
